


Fucked

by sarken



Category: Third Watch
Genre: Episode: Castles of Sand, F/F, F/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-24
Updated: 2005-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanting to save their troubled partnership, Faith makes a late-night phone call to Bosco after the events of "Castles of Sand."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucked

**Author's Note:**

> This is set immediately after the fourth season episode "Castles of Sand."

As she dials his number, Faith wonders what was in her coffee that gave her this much nerve. The phone rings once, twice, and then she's two rings away from hanging up. This is one conversation she can't have with his answering machine.

He picks up just as the recording comes on. She hears him swear and bring his fist down on the machine, hoping one of the buttons he hits will turn recording off. He's not half as good with telephones as he is with cars and women.

Once she no longer hears her breathing echoing over the answering machine, she dives right in, afraid of losing her courage. "You really think I slept with Claire?" she asks, not waiting for Bosco to say hello. He's probably forgotten he's holding the phone.

It takes a beat for him to respond; he has to wake up and calm down first. When he does answer, it's typical Bosco: a mouthful of smartass and a thinly veiled answer. "Well, you did ask me about my girlfriend's ass."

"And her rack," Faith reminds him, keeping her tone light. She wants him to believe what she tells him; she wants to be the better liar. More than that, she wants him away from Cruz. She's a little quieter--her husband, her kids, they don't need to hear this--but just as cheerful when she asks, "Would you think that was hot, if I slept with Claire?"

She knows the answer. He told her with a look in the RMP. It's why he can't lie to her, and it's why she hopes to God he doesn't try. She doesn't want to hang up the phone, admit defeat, let him destroy himself.

The pause between question and answer is shorter this time. For once in his life, he has to offer an explanation before he can answer. "You probably want me to lie this time, but I'm not gonna. I'm a guy, Faith. The idea of--"

"Bosco," she says, "yes or no. That's all I want."

"Yes," he says, no hesitation.

Faith smiles. He told her the truth, so she'll return the favor. "I didn't sleep with her."

She can hear his fantasy fall apart. It's the sound of glass shattering.

"Right." It's disappointment, not sarcasm. It's the question of why she's calling him at two o'clock in the morning to tell him something she didn't do fifteen years ago. It's asking why she had to tease him like that.

"But I slept with Cruz." She doesn't wait for him to recover. "Well, fucked her. Let her fuck me--one of those things--in her office."

The silence on his end is so complete she can hear his slept-in jeans brush against the couch when he sits down. If it were his old couch, she would have heard the springs squeak. "And you thought this was something I should know?"

It's something she thinks he should believe, just like she should believe Vernon Marks' dying declaration. "It was probably a couple years ago, back when she was working midnights. You left me with the paperwork so you could go get laid."

"And you didn't want to go home." A couple years ago, he was trying to get serious with Nicole and Faith was trying to get away from Fred. She didn't mind being left with the paperwork back then.

"Yeah," she says softly, and the guilt rushes through every vein in her body. Fred almost died six months ago; she can't imagine wanting to leave him. Her voice is stronger when she continues. "Yeah, I must have been pretty into it because the next thing I knew, Cruz was standing over my shoulder. Said she wanted to talk to me about a collar you and I made, and could we go to her office."

Faith knows she has Bosco's attention when he jumps in with the next sentence. "So you followed her," he says. His breathing covers the sound of him moving to the edge of his seat.

She tells him something obvious, lets him think he knows. "She didn't want to talk about a collar."

"She only knew the guy's name because she was reading over your shoulder," Bosco supplies. He thinks he knows Cruz and he thinks he knows Faith, so he lays the foundation for another fantasy. "She backed you up against the wall."

"No, not the wall," Faith says. The collapse of his flight of fancy doesn't make so much noise this time because it never quite took off. "I was still in uniform, but my hair was down. She was wearing those tight, skanky khakis, the ones that make you stare at her ass when I'm trying to talk to you."

He doesn't protest. They both know he gets distracted.

"She closed the door." There isn't a clock in sight, and it's seconds or minutes before she says, "On the desk."

"She pushed your pants down."

"I took them off myself."

"She fucked you with her fingers."

"First she used her mouth."

Faith wonders how tight his pants are, if they're unzipped and unbuttoned yet. If he's hard like she is wet. She wants him to be.

"Tell me," he says, and she has her answer. She walks down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She leaves the lights off and sits on the floor, her back against the bathtub, her knees bent and legs spread. Her nightgown bunches around her hips.

"She left the blinds open; anyone could have seen us. Maybe someone did." She rests a hand on her knee and as she continues to speak, her hand trails down her inner thigh. "My pants were on the floor by her desk. She unbuttoned my shirt and those bony fingers of hers curled around my breasts. She squeezed them as she pushed them up, but then she let go and frowned."

"You've got great tits," Bosco says, and Faith's fingers brush across her clit. "She was probably jealous."

Faith inhales sharply, partially from her touch and partially from Bosco's words. If her husband hadn't just taken a heart attack, she'd want Bosco's hands on her, showing her just how great he thought her body was. "You think?" she asks and hears him snort in disbelief.

"Shit, Faith," he says, "every time you've got your shirt off in the locker room, I just--no, forget it. But if it had been me in that office, I'd have had my mouth on one and my hand on the other, trying to get your nipples to be as hard as my cock."

"Cruz didn't even take my bra off--just went straight for my panties." She hopes she sounds disappointed. "They could still be in her desk drawer, you know. I wasn't wearing them when I went home that night."

Bosco moans and Faith knows he'll be thinking about that the next time he's in Cruz's office. He might even go looking for them. He'll never find them.

"She brought over a chair, straddled it. She was at just the right level and as soon as her tongue touched my clit, I started writhing so hard it was all she could do to keep her mouth on me. Her fingernails dug into my hips and left red marks there for days." Faith slides a finger into herself. "God, Bos, she ate me out." Another finger joins the first, moving in and out, faster and harder. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"Should have asked," he says, and she knows she has him. That knowledge combined with her hand against her clit makes her come, sinking her teeth into her lip to keep quiet. No one needs to know what she gets off on, not her husband and not her partner.

"After that she got you off with her fingers?" The idea seems to excite him. "Like you were doing to yourself right now?"

Out of breath, Faith shakes her head until she remembers Bosco can't see her. "No, I faked it the second time."

Silence follows.

"But you just got off thinking about it, so it couldn't have been that bad," he says, finally.

Her back aches from sitting on the tile floor, but she'll talk as long as he'll listen. She leans her head against the edge of the bathtub and she once again begins to idly tease her clit. "Only because I was telling you about it," she says. She doesn't tell him that maybe it's also a little bit because Fred is sleeping just down the hall. "Were you getting off on it?" She doesn't care about his answer, if it's yes or no, a lie or the truth.

"I wanted to, but I couldn't," he says, and Faith bites back a Viagra joke. She doesn't want to be the reason he hangs up. "Maybe if she'd paid more attention to your tits, or maybe if the second time had been real."

"You'd have made me come that time." She knows she's right. He has a reputation to uphold--multiple numbers and all that.

"Yeah," he agrees easily. She talks about Fred and failed attempts at sex often enough for Bosco to know what doesn't do it for her. "I would have figured out what it took: one finger, three fingers, touching your clit. And after that, I'd go down on you. I'd do what you like."

"And I do anything you wanted me to."

"I'd want to watch you. I'd want to see you like you are now, with your legs spread and your hand between your thighs. Then I'd want you to listen to me when I told you to take that hand away from your clit and use those fingers to twist your nipple. Would you do that for me, Faith? Would you touch your breasts for me? You've been neglecting them; you don't like them. But this isn't about you anymore. It's about me, so touch them."

The phone is cradled between her shoulder and her ear. It presses painfully against her head when her hands reach up to cup her breasts. "I'm touching them," she says. In the daylight, she wishes they were fuller and higher, but here in the dark, she likes the way they fit in her hands. "I like it more than I thought I would."

He doesn't acknowledge that she has spoken. "Now pinch your nipples," he tells her and waits for her to do it. "Harder, Faith. Pinch them harder." She cries out softly and he says, "Yeah, like that."

Faith falls back against the tub, the muscles in her back burning from the way she was arching into her touch. "That felt--"

"Shut up and get that hand back between your legs," he interrupts. His tone is commanding, but not as harsh as his words. "Brush your fingers over your clit and then slide them into you. Feel that? That's my tongue."

Two fingers inside herself and one hand wrapped around the phone in a death grip, she says, "Thought…you only wanted to watch."

"Changed my mind." It's his prerogative; she said whatever he wanted. "Slide your fingers out, all the way. You know what did it for me? Go ahead; slide them back in nice and slow. It was that little noise you made when you pinched our nipples. I couldn't help myself. Out, and add another finger. Now fuck yourself as fast and as hard as you want."

He doesn't need to say it's his cock inside her, making her pant and moan as she gets closer to the edge.

"Are you going to come?" he asks. She doesn't respond, but he knows. Still, he asks again. "Faith, are you going to come?"

"Yes."

"Good." He waits a second. "Stop."

Three fingers are buried inside her and she's so close, but she stops at the command in his voice. She whimpers, makes the noise he said he liked so much.

He doesn't fall for it. "Listen to me, Yokas: don't ever jerk me around like that again."

He drops the phone back onto its cradle and Faith drops her phone onto the floor. Faith's left sitting in the dark with her legs spread and her nightgown up around her hips. Bosco thinks he got jerked around, but Faith knows she just got fucked.


End file.
